


Spin Cycles

by lemonhopia



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Laundromat AU, M/M, just a bunch of sleepless college kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2020-12-07 18:43:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20980598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonhopia/pseuds/lemonhopia
Summary: Minho just wanted some peace and quiet. Chan just wanted to sleep without the sound of moaning next door.In an unexpected encounter, they find the perfect solution.





	Spin Cycles

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:
> 
> #: 107  
AU: Modern Setting  
Letter Idea: Person A and person B both have horrible time management skills so they often end up at the local laundromat very late at night. Cue lots of conversations, both meaningful and silly, while listening to the familiar buzz of the washing machines and soaking in the scent of mid-priced laundry detergent. (Could include a person C too or as many people as you’d like!)  
Max. Rating: No preference!  
Delivered: I just want people kissing in a laundromat that's really all I need  
Lost: -  
Triggers: -

There is an odd sense of comfort in the scent of laundry soap and fabric conditioner hanging thick in the air. Especially late at night, and the static hum of the washing machines is a welcome change to the endless chatter and thumping music and all sorts of questionable noises in the dorms. Uni can be a whole damn circus and the late nights that often turn to early mornings Minho spends in this 24-hour laundromat across his building is the most peace and quiet he can get all week. If only he wasn't so swamped with school work most days, he'd go there every night.

That night was exceptionally more quiet than usual even with a few other customers around, the whirr of the machines amplified by the silence. Perfect, since he had more than a week of clothes to deal with. He sat down at one of the benches on the empty far left end and took his time laying out his laundry. Typical for midterms week, though he kinda missed the numerous random personalities he meets in that place that felt like an entirely new universe at times.

Until this blonde guy who looked around his age walked in with a black laundry bag in his hands. If Minho already brought a shit ton of clothes, this guy had even more. 

He knew he should hurry up so he won't spend all night in there with the amount of laundry he had, but soon he found himself loading less and less clothes per cycle, even if it meant using more soap and water than he should.

And risking looking dumb too.

To his defense, this new boy was worth looking dumb for, no matter how hard he tried to pretend not to look. No, he definitely wasn't checking out the way the boy's arms move in that black muscle tee with the armholes cut just below the ribs, how he unconsciously smiles a little to himself and bops to the music playing in his earbuds, how he had too many ridiculously expensive underwear, and the way he unconsciously bites and licks his lips. 

Definitely better than the usual crowd there, the drunk guy who ended up with pink stains on his white clothes from the stray red shirt in his basket, and the girl in nothing but underwear in a last-ditch effort to wash the rain and mud off her clothes.

Blonde boy must be so deep in thought that he didn't notice the way he stared. He wasn't even really watching his cycle, he's more like staring at the space in front of the washing machine.

Or maybe he's just tired? Can't blame him. They all looked pretty drained most of the time.

There were just so many things he wanted to know even if he only saw him barely an hour ago. Did he live in the same building? Would he be nice to him if they actually talked? Was he in the same campus, and even the same dorm? And why had he not seen him before? 

Minho tried to fight the urge to keep washing in smaller loads just so he can stay a bit longer but he does. Maybe just this one time, then he'll come to his senses and stop. He watched his clothes tumble around in the soapy water, pretending not to notice the boy on the next bench. 

"Do you need help? Or do you just need your clothes to be extra clean? You can definitely fit more in there,"

It was the first time Minho heard his voice and he wanted to hear it again right away. Great, the first time blonde guy talks to him after a night of stolen glances and awkward staring, he thinks he's dumb for not knowing how to use a washing machine.

Minho could feel the blood rush to his face and the words stuck in his throat when the other boy chuckled to himself. He looked quite amused and Minho didn't know if that was better or worse. 

"Chan," He looked up to see blonde guy he now knows as Chan smiling fully at him, dimples in full display, eyes glinting in something pleasant he can't quite pinpoint. "I'm Chan, and I'm not leaving in another 10 minutes, if that's what you were wondering,"

What a relief. All this time he thought Chan thought he was creepy, if not dumb. 

"I'm Minho, I live just across the street," He pointed to the door, in the general direction of his dorm. Amazing self-introduction. 

"Me too, how come I haven't seen you around before?" _ Wow, I was just about to ask the same thing. _

"Too busy to go out a lot,"

"So what's keeping you up?" Chan's sudden question startled him. "I'm pretty sure no one does laundry so late at night as a hobby,"

"What if I do?" 

"Then you're even weirder than I thought,"

"I guess I am," Minho laughed, suddenly comfortable in Chan's presence. "Ok, really though, I like it here because it's quiet, well at least most of the time. I don't really have the best neighbors you know,"

"Ah, well, my roommate keeps bringing his dates over so I'm always getting kicked out. No way I'm gonna sleep or finish any work hearing them fuck," The disgusted face Chan made that turned into a laugh definitely caused a storm in Minho's chest.

"Shit, that sucks,"

"Sucks that I'm not the one bringing someone home," Chan looked around him and sighed, his eyes going back to Minho. "But, I guess it's not too bad after all,"

How the fuck is he even supposed to respond to that? Minho inhaled deeply and tried to compose himself as best as possible without Chan noticing how flustered he got.

"You know… We can hang out somewhere else if you don't have anywhere to go," Chan's face lit up at the suggestion, and Minho snapped back to his usual confident self._ Good save. _ "We only have so much laundry to do, so..."

"I'll hit you up when I get kicked out again," To his surprise, Chan handed him his phone, dialer open and ready to save his number. How did he get so lucky? He didn't question it. He entered his number with sure and steady fingers, and saved his name with a laundry basket emoji next to it.

The tick of a timer went off and he watched Chan retrieve all his clothes, and waved goodbye too fast for his poor heart to process. Minho watched Chan walk away, not knowing if he'll actually save his number, let alone text him, and all he could do was watch his back as he walked out the door.

Well, at least he now has more reason to pick laundry as his favorite chore.

Even more so when he noticed the heap of black fabric on the floor by the bench Chan was sitting at earlier. Maybe he dropped it? He's certain it wasn't there earlier.

Minho thought for a moment if he should keep it for the meantime, but he didn't really have a way to return it now, did he? Maybe Chan wouldn't notice one less piece of clothing from his closet anymore but Minho really hoped he will.

Is it creepy to not want to throw someone's hoodie in the wash and even return it at all? Minho clutched the fabric to his chest as he watched his clothes tumble around inside the huge industrial washing machine in front of him, but he didn't include the hoodie Chan left last week.

He didn't get a text. Minho already expected somehow, though he didn't feel deprived of Chan's presence completely. The older boy might not have noticed since he was so caught up in his schedules that all they could do was wave and make a bit of small talk when they run into each other, by some miracle of the universe. That's at least a development, right? Though he would like to see Chan more, he was more than happy with the smallest of moments they get to share. He's content with the tiny bits about Chan he keeps finding out, like how he's a senior and a swimmer and also working on music on the side.

And most importantly, _ single _.

Minho sat down one of the benches and looked around the empty laundromat. Upon finding no one else in the immediate surroundings, he brought the hoodie closer to his face and took a whiff of the soft fabric.

So this is how he smells like? It was like his cologne has permanently seeped into the threads, and so warm and comforting just like Chan himself.

He really hoped no one saw him. Holding on to the garment even when he already had so many chances to return it was already weird in itself. He just wanted to see Chan one more time. It's already been a week since he first and last talked to him properly him after all, and it didn't help that Chan has been randomly appearing around campus out of nowhere.

For the past week, he has been hoping for Chan's roommate to kick him out again.

Feeling defeated, Minho contented himself in watching the timer on the machine, Chan's hoodie clutched tight against his chest.

Everything felt so peaceful until he heard faint footsteps behind him, coming closer and closer, and a clearing of the throat breaking the silence. As if the universe didn't hate him enough, it was Chan he found standing behind him, trying so hard to stifle a laugh. Normally he would be so giddy at the sight of Chan but this time he just wanted the floor to swallow him alive.

Minho was already prepared to have Chan laugh in his face or stay away from him as far as possible right at that moment, or both. But he got neither. He didn't expect for Chan to simply settle beside him, lips fixed in a small smile and not speaking, and he could hear the beating of his own heart with how quiet the room is.

_ Do I pretend nothing happened? Do I pretend I didn't just fucking inhale the hoodie he left? _

Minho's brain was in a panic. He didn't expect at all to catch Chan looking at him with a curious and amused expression on his face.

"You can keep that if you want to, I'm not mad,"

A relieved laugh escaped Minho's lips and in an instant, he has redeemed himself. How could Chan just say things like that like it was nothing?

"Thanks, I was planning to," 

"Also…" Chan moved closer, closing the gap between them on the bench. "I'm right here if you wanna smell me,"

"Chan, what the fuck," Both boys broke out laughing, their voices bouncing off the walls and drowning out the mechanical whirr of the machines. Minho's timer goes off and he pauses for a moment, contemplating whether or not to include Chan's hoodie in his next batch of laundry.

"That offer was serious, just so you know,"

The gap between their faces seemed too big though it was only a few inches. Wasting no time, Minho pulled him closer by shoulders, not hesitating to close the distance between their bodies.

Chan's lips were as soft as he expected. He's been wanting to kiss those plump and pillowy lips since he laid eyes on them, and now that he has tasted them he didn't want to let go. And the longer he lingered, the more Chan seemed to feel the same.

"Wow, I've never been this happy to get kicked out of my room," Pulling away breathless, Chan couldn't keep the satisfied smile off his face.

"You know how you can get back at your asshole of a roommate?" Minho couldn't help but grin triumphantly either, his hands traveling down from Chan's broad shoulders to his chest and resting there like it was where they're made to be. "Next time, go kick him out yourself."


End file.
